


Yours is the First Face That I Saw

by Finduilas



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, Handcuffs, Kidnapping, M/M, Near Death Experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Danny wake up together, handcuffed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours is the First Face That I Saw

**Author's Note:**

> \- Title from First Day of My Life, by Bright Eyes. I also stole one line from the song for the dialogue.  
> \- Many thanks to lunachickk for brainstorming with me on this one.  
> \- Many thanks to iam_space for the excellent beta, the advice, and just for being a wonderful human being. :)

Steve wakes with a throbbing in his head and a fog in his brain. He tries to swallow away his dry mouth and it takes him a second to acknowledge the slight pressure against his left side. He blinks a few times, trying to open his eyes and figure out where he is exactly. When he shifts, the pressure against him shifts as well and he tries to sit up but his arm won’t move, pinned beneath a heavy weight that he now sees is Danny. Danny, who is slowly waking up as well – then starts and pulls away abruptly, tugging at Steve’s left wrist and sending a flare of pain.    
  
“What the…?” Danny pulls away again, but sort of bounces back and ends up pressed against Steve instead.    
  
Steve can hear the panic in Danny’s voice as there’s a pull on his arm again. “What the fuck?”    
  
Steve wraps his right arm – the one that is free to move – around Danny’s body, holding him against his own.    
  
“Danno, calm down for a sec.”    
  
Miraculously, Danny does, without hesitation. Steve feels Danny even out his breath as he sags against Steve, back to chest.    
  
Steve looks down, eyes adjusting to the dim room. There’s a lonely light bulb hanging off the ceiling, casting a faint light. He can see the handcuffs flickering against the ray of light that breaks through the dark as he rolls his wrist.    
  
“Those are your cuffs,” Steve says as he pulls up his arm slightly, taking Danny’s with him.    
  
“Yeah…” Danny says, and the two of them stare at their joined arms – left to left – for a few moments, Danny still resting against Steve.    
  
The silence breaks after a few moments when Danny moves to stand up, his left hand outstretched as not to drag Steve along.    
  
“What the hell happened here?” Danny asks, eyes frantically taking in their surroundings, “Where are we? How did we end up here?”    
  
Steve has no immediate answers and he scans the room. It’s just the two of them in a room roughly the size of his own kitchen. There’s a heavy metal door that he can tell will be extremely difficult to open without a key, and there’s a square that must’ve been a window at some point but has been bricked up. A vent near the ceiling is probably too small to fit through, and there’s an old ratty-looking couch in one corner. He also notices that neither of them are wearing shoes, belts, or watches. No guns or badges either.    
  
“Can you remember anything?” Steve asks as he pats his pockets in search of a key, even though he doubts he’ll find one.    
  
Danny shakes his head, pushing his free hand deep in his pockets, evidently taking his cue from Steve.   
  
“You?”   
  
“No,” Steve says and he finally gets up and starts walking towards the door. Danny follows him without so much as a tug on the handcuffs, and Steve would be amazed at the flawless synchrony if he wasn’t so busy trying to find a way out of there.    
  
He pushes against the door, not surprised to find that it doesn’t budge an inch.    
  
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Danny asks him, his eyes fixed on the chain that links them.    
  
“We were at home, no?” Steve frowns, and Danny doesn’t comment on the fact that Steve called it ‘home’ for the both of them, even though Danny hasn’t actually lived there in a while now.    
  
“No, no,” Danny mutters, “We got a call, remember? During lunch?”    
  
“That wasn’t lunch, that was a coronary embolism waiting to happen,” Steve comments, and it gets a tiny smile out of Danny.    
  
“You wouldn’t know good food if it bit you in the nose,” Danny says.    
  
“What was that call?” Steve asks, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the locked door.    
  
Danny’s quiet for a second, then sighs heavily and shakes his head.    
  
“I can’t remember. It’s like… like I can’t think or something.”    
  
Steve smirks, but Danny yanks at the cuffs as a warning.    
  
“Don’t even!” he says, but there’s a hint of a smile that Steve doesn’t miss.    
  
Steve rubs his eyes with his free hand, trying hard to put the pieces together.    
  
“I think maybe we were drugged,” Danny says, but it sounds like a question.   
  
Steve nods and reaches his hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his head. “I think I got hit on the head as well.”    
  
“Shit,” Danny says, swiftly turning Steve around as he starts rubbing his free hand where Steve’s was just a second ago. Steve lets him.    
  
“You hurt?” Danny asks, his fingers gently tracing a small scab he finds on Steve’s skull.    
  
“Danny, I’m good,” Steve tries to reassure.    
  
“You nauseous? Dizzy?”    
  
Danny’s fingers slide down to the nape of Steve’s neck before letting go and facing Steve again, and it sends a little shiver down Steve’s spine that he hopes Danny doesn’t notice.    
  
“Do you know what year it is?”    
  
“Danno,” Steve snorts, then gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I don’t have a concussion.”    
  
“Right, because you’re invincible,” Danny rolls his eyes.    
  
“Because I can recognize a concussion when I have one, Danny,” Steve says, “And this isn’t it. I’m fine.”   
  
“Fine,” Danny sighs, somewhat reassured. Or faking it well.    
  
“You think Chin and Kono know where we are?” Steve asks.    
  
“I don’t know, babe,” Danny says, “I can’t remember how we got here. I can’t remember anything from the moment you got that call.”   
  
He looks around, as if a way out would have miraculously appeared in the last minute or so.    
  
“Damn,” Danny curses, and when he puts his hands up to start a good rant, he’s tugging the handcuffs again.    
  
“You’ve got to stop talking with your hands, Danny,” Steve can’t help but smirk a little.    
  
“You finding this amusing?” Danny scowls, pulling up his chained hand again, “’cause I’m not the only one cuffed here, you know.”    
  
“We’ll figure it out,” Steve simply says, then clasps his hand in Danny’s, “Come on, we’ll chafe our wrists if you keep tugging like that.”   
  
“So what? We’ll just hold hands?” Danny snorts, but he lets Steve wrap his fingers around his own anyway, and Steve does his best not to notice how his hand nearly engulfs Danny’s completely.    
  
“It’ll be romantic,” Steve deadpans, and before Danny can comment, Steve is already pulling him towards the opposite wall to take a better look at the vent.    
  
“I doubt we’re gonna fit,” Danny says, then squeezes Steve’s hand a bit, “Especially not like this.”    
  
“Worth a try, no?” Steve shrugs and pulls Danny towards the other end of the room again, “Come on. Help me move this couch.”    
  
Together they push the couch against the wall under the vent. They both climb up the back of the couch, and Steve starts pulling at the cover of the vent.    
  
“Don’t suppose you have a grenade in your pocket or something,” Danny says as he sees the vent budge very reluctantly.    
  
“They took our shoes and socks, Danno,” Steve grunts as he continues pulling, bare toes digging into the fabric of the couch, “Did you really think they’d leave me the contents of my pockets?”    
  
“You…” Danny hesitates for a second, “You didn’t really have a grenade in your pocket though, did you?”   
  
Steve just flashes him a grin and nods towards the vent, “Come on. Give me a hand, will you?”    
  
Danny wedges his fingers in the small gap that Steve has managed to obtain between the register and the wall. It’s awkward, because their movements are restricted by the handcuffs, until Steve lifts his left arm to allow Danny to nudge himself between Steve and the wall.    
  
“I gotta tell you, babe,” Danny starts, shoulders now pressed against Steve’s chest as Steve’s arms bracket him, “If this is your idea of romance, I understand why you’re still single.”   
  
Steve snorts and resists the urge to say something really stupid, and says instead, “Aww, what? Doesn’t every good date start out with a little abduction and handcuffs?”    
  
“I usually keep the handcuffs for when the evening goes really well,” Danny deadpans, then looks over his shoulder to flash Steve a grin that makes his mouth go a little dry.    
  
Steve is about to say something when the vent finally gives and bends a little at the corner. They wrap their fingers around the now free part of the metal and with one sharp tug, the entire thing springs free. The sudden give unbalances them and the vent clatters to the floor as Steve hits the couch, Danny falling on top of him.    
  
“Haha, yes!” Danny scrambles to his feet and pulls Steve back up by clasping their hands together again. They both stare at the open hole in the wall now.    
  
Steve tilts his head, trying to take in the measurements of the vent.    
  
“I think you might get stuck,” he says.    
  
“What?” Danny asks, “Me? What are you talking about? You’re taller than I am.”    
  
“Your shoulders,” Steve says, looking pointedly at Danny, “They’re very broad.”   
  
Danny looks down from side to side, as if he’s seeing his shoulders only for the first time. “I… You been ogling my shoulders?”    
  
Steve rolls his eyes, trying to make light of the statement. “Yes, Danny. I’ve done nothing but ogle your manly, broad shoulders since the day I hired you. Can we please focus on the real problem here?”    
  
“I’m just saying…” Danny smiles, like he’s just uncovered the secret of a lifetime. “Also, you didn’t so much hire me as bully your way into my li…”    
  
“They’re ridiculously wide, actually,” Steve interrupts, snapping his head back in the direction of the vent. “Disproportionate to the rest of your body really.” Because it’s so much easier to say than what he really wants to.    
  
“Now you’re just trying to piss me off,” Danny says, the smile disappearing off his face, but Steve can’t resist a chuckle and Danny bumps him playfully with his – ridiculously wide – shoulder.    
  
“Are we done talking about your body-issues and can we get on with the escape plan?” Steve asks, stepping back up onto the back of the couch, Danny following dutifully.    
  
“I don’t have any issues, babe,” Danny says, “It’s you that seems to be fascinated by the way I’m built.”    
  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” Steve mutters, sticking both hands inside the vent, tugging Danny’s arm with him as an effective way to shut him up. “Let me go up and see if I can see anything, how deep it goes.”   
  
“Manners,” Danny mutters, but cups his free hand next to his thigh as a stepping place for Steve.    
  
“I don’t see how this is ever going to work,” Danny says as Steve pushes himself up, trying to crawl into the small opening in the wall while trying not to dislocate Danny’s shoulder in the process. Steve just grunts as he sticks his head in as far as he can, squeezing his shoulders through the vent. It’s awkward and uncomfortable as Danny pushes his arm inside the opening, glued to Steve’s body, to give Steve more leverage. The palm of Danny’s hand is pressed flat against Steve’s stomach, and he’s still mumbling as Steve tries to crawl in deeper. He’s got no vision now, his own body blocking the light from going in, and his legs are flailing in the air. He pushes in a bit further, but stops as a sharp pain rips through his upper arm, tearing through the skin.    
  
He freezes and he must have cursed or yelled out because Danny’s hand is squeezing at his side as he calls out, “What’s the matter? What happened?”    
  
“Help me out,” Steve mutters, another scrape at his arm as he backs away, and Danny’s pulling at his hips now. He stumbles out of the vent, letting himself drop down on the couch with a heavy sigh.    
  
“Fuck, you’re bleeding,” Danny says, already fussing over the cut on his arm that is in fact pissing blood.    
  
“There was a sharp edge sticking out somewhere,” Steve says, carefully examining the cut on his left bicep – the arm that’s joined with Danny’s. “I couldn’t see. It was pitch dark.”    
  
Danny repeats a mantra of “fuck’s” as he pushes up the edge of Steve’s sleeve, fingertips carefully roaming over the cut that slices through the dark tattoo. The cut appears deep and stings, and blood is flowing out slow but steady.    
  
“No first aid kit in those pockets of yours either, I’m guessing?” Danny mutters, clearly not expecting an answer.    
  
Steve inhales sharply as Danny’s fingers probe the cut, and he closes his eyes and tries to breathe through the pain.    
  
“Gotta check that there’s nothing left in there,” Danny says apologetic, but Steve doesn’t complain.    
  
It’s the sound of Danny’s shirt ripping that makes Steve open his eyes again, and  _yep_ , Danny’s shredding open his shirt with a fierce determination.    
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve squints, though the sight of Danny’s naked chest coming into view goes a long way in easing his pain.    
  
“Need to stop that bleeding, babe,” Danny says, ripping his shirt in long shreds, using one to dab at the cut, wiping away some of the blood. “Don’t worry, I wore a clean shirt.”    
  
“I’m more worried about you catching a cold,” Steve deadpans, focusing on Danny’s hands as they wrap the wound up tightly with the strands of fabric of Danny’s once white and blue striped shirt. Now everything is stained with blood.    
  
“This is Hawaii, Steven,” Danny snorts, and all but rolls his eyes.    
  
And then the door swings open and three masked men rush into the room.    
  
“What the fuck is going on here?” One of them yells in what is definitely a native accent.    
  
Danny jumps to his feet, Steve following suit, but they’re immediately grabbed by the shoulders and shoved out the door.    
  
“Hey  _asshole_ ,” Danny spits out, trying to put up a struggle as he’s pushed forward. “You let us go right now! We’re Five-0.”    
  
The tallest of the three snorts and takes out a gun, holding it against Steve’s temple. Steve thinks of all the ways he could disarm the man, and how much time it would take. But he’s chained to Danny and his left arm is throbbing with pain and he’s sure Tall Guy isn’t the only one carrying, so he decides against it.    
  
“You gonna shut up now?” Tall Guy asks Danny pointedly, nudging the barrel of his gun a little further against Steve’s temple. Steve can feel Danny freeze against him as he lets out a whispered, “I’m good, I’m good.”    
  
As they get shoved through a few hallways – Danny in front of Steve – Steve tries to take in their surroundings. They get pushed up a flight of stairs, the walls are painted a light orange and there are double doors with small round windows that seem to lead to an empty industrial-size kitchen.    
  
Somewhere along the way, Danny wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist and squeezes, and even though there’s a masked man pointing a gun at them, the gesture feels reassuring in a way. They approach a heavy metal door that one of the guys opens with a grunt and the second they’re pushed through the door is shut behind them with a bang.    
  
The chill of cold air is immediate. They rush over to the door, but it doesn’t budge.    
  
“Fuck,” Danny says, wrapping his free arm around his naked chest as he looks around the room. The empty – but working – refrigerator room.    
  
“This is Hawaii…” Steve echoes Danny’s words from earlier.    
  
“FUCK!” Danny screams out, then blows out a deep breath, his exhale like a puff of smoke in front of him. He runs his hand through his hair in frustration.    
  
“Here,” Steve says, lifting up the edge of his shirt, “Give me a hand.” Because if they pull his shirt over his head and slip it inside out over their joined arms, Danny can wear it. But Danny slaps his hand away and says, “Are you insane? I don’t want your shirt.”    
  
“But…” Steve stammers, because it’s his fault Danny ripped up his own shirt and used it as a bandage, and now Danny is standing shirtless in a refrigerated room where they’ll be locked up for God knows how long – and Steve tries really hard not to notice the goose bumps that are forming along Danny’s shoulders and around his nipples.    
  
“You’re hurt, alright?” Danny says, tightening the bandages around Steve’s arm a little as if to illustrate his point. “I’m not stealing your shirt. You need it more. I’ll be fine.”    
  
“You’re gonna freeze,” Steve protests, though the flimsy shirt Steve is wearing isn’t doing much to protect him from the cold either. Steve thinks the temperature might be just above freezing, and it is by no means comfortable.    
  
“I’m used to Jersey winters, babe,” Danny tries with a smile. “I’m no delicate Hawaiian flower like yourself.”    
  
“I’ve had cold water training, Danno,” Steve retorts.    
  
“Yeah? Also with a huge gash in your arm?” Danny quirks an eyebrow. He guides Steve towards a few empty crates and sits him down. “How bad is this cut anyway? You lost quite a lot of blood there.”    
  
“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs, even though he’s quite sure he needs stitches and something to disinfect probably wouldn’t hurt either.   
  
“Move your fingers for me,” Danny says, kneeling down in front of Steve and taking his hand in his.    
  
“Danny, I’m…” Steve starts, but Danny’s head snaps up and he means business.    
  
“No, seriously, Steve. You were drugged, got hit on the head, a nasty cut on your arm – ‘cause that’s not a little paper cut in case you hadn’t noticed – and quite a bit of blood loss, and I have no way of taking you to the hospital or even giving you some decent first aid,” Danny says, “So you are going to humor me and wiggle your fingers. This is not up for discussion.”    
  
Steve waggles his fingers dutifully, with no problems in mobility.    
  
“You feel this?” Danny asks as he scrapes his fingernails over Steve’s palm, then carefully over the inside of each of Steve’s fingers, all the way to the tip. The sensation rolls like a chill through Steve’s spine, and he’s sure the slight accompanying shiver doesn’t go unnoticed by Danny, even in the dim blue-ish light of the refrigerator. But he can just brush it off as the cold.    
  
“Yeah, I can feel that,” Steve says, head ducked.    
  
“Good,” Danny says with a relieved smile. “Good.”    
  
He sags down on the floor in front Steve, in between Steve’s legs. He swings his arm over Steve’s knee, so Steve doesn’t have to lean forward with his hurt arm down.    
  
“You know…” Danny muses, “I think we might be totally screwed here.”    
  
“Ya think?” Steve huffs.    
  
“Chin and Kono better be on their way for a search and rescue mission,” Danny looks up at Steve over his shoulder.    
  
“I’m sure they are,” Steve says, even though he isn’t entirely sure how they’ll ever find them here, seeing as Steve himself doesn’t have the slightest idea of where they are and how long they’ve been here.    
  
They’re quiet for a few moments, the pain in Steve’s arm flaring up every now and then, and Steve tries to focus his attention elsewhere. The fuzzy peach hairs on Danny’s shoulder – almost invisible to the naked eye if it weren’t for the fact that the cold is making them stand up – go a long way to distracting him. Over Danny’s shoulder, Steve can just see the hard buds of Danny’s nipples, surrounded by tiny goose bumps and Steve isn’t sure but the blood loss might be making him a bit light in the head.    
  
“You’re cold,” Steve blurts out.    
  
“Genius,” Danny says, but there’s no heat behind his words and he leans slightly into Steve, resting his shoulder against Steve’s thigh.    
  
“C’mere,” Steve says, giving up the battle of not reaching out and touching Danny.    
  
He carefully wraps his arms around Danny’s naked shoulders, but doesn’t pull tighter until Danny scoots a bit closer, resting his head against Steve’s chest. Steve’s arms close around Danny’s frame, Danny’s fingers covering Steve’s forearms. They’re covered with dried blood – Steve’s blood – but neither of them comment on it.    
  
“How long do you think we can survive in here?” Danny asks softly, and Steve can feel the shivers in Danny’s body.    
  
“Don’t think like that,” Steve says, unconsciously tightening his arms around Danny.    
  
“I’m just trying to be realistic,” Danny says weakly, burying his face a little closer in Steve’s chest, and Steve can easily pretend the resulting tremble is due to the cold.    
  
“We’ll survive until we… don’t,” Steve simply says, “There’s nothing we can do about it.”   
  
“You’re quite the philosopher,” Danny mumbles, “I thought maybe our last conversation would be a bit more…”    
  
“What are you talking about?” Steve snaps, pulling back slightly, but Danny just burrows into Steve’s embrace. This is not a conversation he wants to have with Danny. This is  _never_  a conversation he wants to have with Danny. The thought of Danny giving up… it’s just too much to take. “We’re not dying yet, Danny. This isn’t our last conversation, alright? I refuse to pretend that it is. I’d have other things to say, if it were.”    
  
And then he clenches his jaw ‘cause he certainly didn’t mean to say that. Danny wouldn’t want to hear it anyway, he’s sure.    
  
“What does  _that_  mean?” Danny asks, twisting a little inside the circle of Steve’s arms, tilting his head up.    
  
“Forget it,” Steve mumbles, jaw locked, staring out at the wall.    
  
“Yeah, I think I won’t,” Danny says, and that is definitely not his happy voice.    
  
“Danny…” Steve sighs.    
  
“No, really Steve?” Danny snaps, shuffling out of Steve’s embrace as much as the handcuffs will allow him. “You’re gonna wait until we’re dying to let me know all the things that I’ve done wrong? All the ways I’ve screwed up? What, is it my fault we’re stuck in this place? ‘cause I can’t remember what happened and I thought you couldn’t either. But if you were just trying to cover for me, then…”    
  
“What the hell are you talking about, Danny?” Steve says, because he’s not sure at all how Danny managed to reach these conclusions.    
  
“If you have things to say to me, Steve, then just say them,” Danny says, his eyes focused on Steve.    
  
“Why on earth would you think I’d have anything to reproach you for?” Steve asks, scooting down on the floor next to Danny, and pulling him in again. “Have I ever given you the impression that I was holding that kind of stuff back? That there is ever any way I would want to be fighting with you, especially under these circumstances?”   
  
Danny lets out a puff of breath. “But you said…”    
  
“Yeah, I know what I said,” Steve says reluctantly, “But obviously you have no idea.”    
  
Danny’s looking up at him, the anger is quickly fading and it’s replaced by something soft and questioning in Danny’s face.    
  
“Then what…?” Danny asks, his voice a whisper.    
  
“Yeah, well… We’re not dying, are we? So just shut up…” Steve mutters, pulling Danny completely against his chest. Danny complies easily, slipping his free arm around Steve’s torso, and that’s probably a testament to how cold he really is.    
  
“You’re freezing,” Steve whispers, rubbing his hand up and down Danny’s back.    
  
“No more than you,” Danny answers, but it’s a lie and they both know it. Danny’s skin is cold against Steve’s body, and he’s trembling pretty much non-stop now.    
  
“How’s the arm?” Danny asks after a few minutes of silence, in which Steve’s hand runs little circles along Danny’s skin.   
  
“I’m fine,” Steve lies, because the cut is deep and it stings, even though the cold is beginning to numb it a little bit. “Don’t worry about it.”    
  
“Yeah, but I do,” Danny says, his head resting against Steve’s collarbone. “It’s not exactly something I can just turn off, alright?”    
  
“Yeah, I know all about that…” Steve mutters. He sighs and lets his cheek drop against the top of Danny’s head.    
  
They fall back into silence, but Steve discovers that he’s having more and more trouble staying awake. The cold is lulling him into a sense of numbness, and the rhythm of Danny’s chest going up and down as he breathes is hypnotizing. His cheek is still plastered against Danny’s head, and Danny’s breath puffing through his thin shirt is getting cooler, bit by bit. Danny hasn’t moved against his body in a while, but Steve is pretty confident the rhythm of his breathing is an indication that he’s still awake. The hand that he has on Danny’s back stopped making circles a while ago, and he knows that his fingertips are resting on Danny’s naked skin but he can’t feel them anymore. Just a tingling feeling, but he’s not entirely sure if he’s imagining it. His other arm – his wounded arm – has gone almost completely numb now. Steve isn’t sure if maybe that’s a blessing in disguise because at least this way he can’t feel the pain anymore. His eyes are closed and he’s trying to force them open because he  _knows_  he shouldn’t fall asleep, he knows he might not wake up anymore if he does, but his eyelids seem to be too heavy and his will may not be strong enough, and it would just feel so good to fall asleep right now.    
  
He thinks that maybe he should tell Danny all those things now. All those things he wasn’t going to say because they weren’t dying, they  _weren’t_ , dammit. But now he isn’t so sure anymore. But maybe it really doesn’t matter either way.    
  
“Danny…” Steve’s voice is a whispered crackle, but he needs to know for sure if Danny is still awake, if he’s still there.    
  
Danny’s answer is a hum, accompanied by a slight shift inside Steve’s arms.    
  
“Don’t fall asleep, ‘kay?” Steve manages to say, his voice rough and trembling.    
  
There’s a silence that scares Steve enough to pry open his eyes, and then Danny whispers, “Am trying…”    
  
“Try harder, Danno. Come on,” Steve says. His cheek is resting against Danny’s hair and he should feel it, he  _should_ .    
  
“Maybe it’s time… you start talking now,” Danny manages to mutter, and the words are slurred but Steve knows exactly what Danny wants to say.    
  
“I might be chickening out,” Steve says, his throat hurts and he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore, and he thinks he says so out loud.   
  
There’s a silence again, a frighteningly long silence, and then Danny says, “I still feel you…” and Steve is quite sure that isn’t technically possible anymore, but maybe he understands what Danny is saying. And it’s the last thing that’s said before Steve realizes that somewhere along the way he closed his eyes again, and then there’s nothing anymore.    
  
***   
  
Steve thinks maybe it’s the headache that wakes him up, ‘cause there’s a pounding in his head and it doesn’t get better as he tries to open his eyes. The light is bright, the walls too white, and there’s a railing up against the side of his bed – like someone was afraid he’d tumble out. There’s no handcuff around his wrist anymore – just the ligature marks – and his entire upper arm is bandaged, but he can still feel the sting.    
  
He moves his head gingerly, trying to take in his surroundings – hospital, that’s a good sign – and his eyes fall on the bed beside him.    
  
“Danny…” Steve whispers, his voice rough.    
  
Danny looks a bit pale, but otherwise alright. There’s an IV stuck to his arm, his hair is a bit messed up, and he looks quite silly in the hospital gown, but he looks alright. He looks  _alive_ . His chest is going up and down at a steady pace, and his eyelids flutter a bit, like he’s dreaming.    
  
Steve knows that Danny probably needs his sleep, that he’s not supposed to wake him up.  _Clearly_ , Danny’s just fine. Steve knows all this. But there’s something inside him that needs more. More than gazing at Danny’s sleeping form, seeing him breathe steadily.    
  
Steve clears his throat, then tries again. “Danny?”   
  
He reaches his arm between the railing, but Danny’s bed is too far and that’s just  _wrong_ . He needs Danny closer. He needs to see Danny’s baby blues, and hear Danny’s voice, and feel Danny’s skin against his. And he doesn’t care how selfish that sounds.    
  
“Danny,” Steve says, just a little bit louder than intended, his arm still hanging off the bed, mid-air, like pure willpower will suddenly bring Danny’s bed closer to him.    
  
Danny stirs, smacks his lips together before blinking his eyes.    
  
“Hey, Danny,” Steve smiles goofily as Danny turns his head with a sleepy gaze and then he sees Steve and a smile spreads over his face.    
  
“Hey…” Danny croaks, and he lets his arm slip off the bed instinctively – and why doesn’t Danny have railings up anyway? Is Steve the only one not to be trusted to stay in bed? – and reaches out for Steve.    
  
They can just make their fingers touch, fingertips fumbling for each other.    
  
“Guess they were all out of private rooms,” Danny quips weakly, but his smile reaches his eyes and it’s the most reassuring thing Steve has ever seen.    
  
“Shut up,” Steve all but chuckles, relief flooding his entire system.    
  
“Hey, you guys are up,” Chin says as he enters the room, followed by Kono.    
  
“Our rescue party, I presume?” Steve asks, tightening his fingers around Danny’s, as if he’s scared Danny is going to let go.    
  
“You two should not be allowed outside without adult supervision,” Kono jokes, smiling, as she walks up to Steve. “Ever.”    
  
Without asking, she unlocks the railing on Steve’s bed, gives him just enough time to let go of Danny’s hand and slip his arm through again, before lowering it. Chin doesn’t hesitate in stepping to the other side of Danny’s bed, pushing it against Steve’s.    
  
“Nurse Kono and Orderly Chin,” Danny smiles, wrapping his fingers all around Steve’s hand.    
  
“Nurse, rescuers,” Kono muses, “We’re your freaking heroes today, brah.”    
  
“Mahalo,” Steve smiles, daring to let his eyes slip from Danny to Kono and Chin, now that he feels the reassuring pressure of Danny’s hand around his.    
  
“How are you guys feeling anyway?” Chin asks.    
  
“Headache,” Steve says, closing his eyes for a second.    
  
“Sore,” Danny adds, then Steve can hear him shift in the bed and address him. “How’s the arm, babe?”    
  
“Still attached, so it can’t be that bad,” Steve says, prying his eyes open to find Danny now on his side, curled towards Steve.    
  
“Tough guy,” Danny smiles.    
  
Steve smiles back, then turns towards his other teammates. “So what happened? How did you find us?”    
  
“That’s a long story,” Chin answers, “And one we’ll save for when you’re both looking a bit more energetic.”   
  
“But let’s just say that trying to keep half of Five-0 busy looking for the other half in order to pull off a big heist…?” Kono smiles, smug, “Doesn’t work.”    
  
“Good job,” Steve says, and his chest swells up with pride for his team. “Thanks.”   
  
“We got an interesting picture of you guys though…” Kono muses.    
  
“What?” Danny asks, and Chin is already chuckling.    
  
“It arrived by e-mail…” Kono continues, “You two unconscious, handcuffed together. Proof of life from the kidnappers. Looks just like you’re sleeping.”    
  
“Oh,” Steve says.    
  
“We should let you guys rest,” Chin says with a hand on Kono’s shoulder to lead her out of the room. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”    
  
“Always knew you’d be the big spoon, boss,” Kono grins cheekily before being pushed out the door by a laughing Chin.    
  
There’s a long silence in the room once the other two are gone, but Danny keeps his hand firmly in place, tangling his fingers with Steve’s.    
  
“How much do you want to bet that picture will be framed by the time we get back to the office?” Danny asks finally, grinning widely.    
  
“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” Steve smiles, rolling his head to the side to look at Danny.    
  
“So uhm…” Danny says, licking his lips nervously. “There was stuff you were gonna tell me…”    
  
“Yeah…” Steve sighs, glancing down at the fingers curled together, resting on the side of Steve’s bed.    
  
“And I know we’re not dying after all, but…” Danny continues, “I think I might like to hear it while I’m still around to enjoy it, you know?”    
  
Steve can see Danny looking at him. His eyes are soft and hopeful, the edges of his mouth twitching minutely into a smile. And Danny looks like he’s waiting, waiting for Steve to say what he surely already knows.   
  
“I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you,” Steve blurts out suddenly, and it’s about the most awkward thing he could’ve said, but Danny laughs.    
  
“You have a way with words, you know that, babe?” Danny says, his face breaking out in a huge smile.    
  
“It’s true,” Steve says, and he can’t help but smile as well.    
  
“I know,” Danny nods, and when he pulls back his hand and lets go of Steve’s, there’s a small moment of panic that fills Steve.    
  
But Danny’s pushing himself up on his elbow, and leaning over Steve. Steve lets out a shuddering breath as he gets what’s about to happen, and then Danny’s lips are on his and it’s about the best thing that ever happened to Steve.    
  
Danny’s arm is on one side of Steve’s bed, and the other is resting on Steve’s chest, and his lips are mapping out Steve’s, a little trace of tongue to nudge open Steve’s mouth – to which he willingly complies. Steve reaches out his good arm to cup Danny’s face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over slight stubble. Danny lets out a little groaning sound as Steve twists his tongue around Danny’s, reveling in the taste.    
  
Then Danny pulls away and lets his forehead hit Steve’s chest, sagging through his arms.    
  
“You okay?” Steve manages to say, still catching his breath.    
  
“Yeah,” Danny whispers, out of breath himself. “Just… my arms feel like jelly.”    
  
They share a laugh, and then Steve mutters, “Sorry.”    
  
“Well worth it,” Danny says, his breath tickling in the vee of Steve’s hospital gown.    
  
Steve closes his arms around Danny’s shoulder – gingerly with his left, careful for bandages and IV-lines – and Danny lets himself melt into Steve’s embrace.    
  
“I’m glad we’re both still around for this,” Danny says, settling against Steve.    
  
“You and me both, babe,” Steve sighs as he closes his eyes, reassured by the warm steady pressure of Danny’s body. “You and me both.” 


End file.
